Humid August
waves of
wind sweeping—the indefatigable
din of kids
play-
laughing and
itchy on the distant
and glinting
primary-
colored equipment—in
through her wide-
mouthed and
peregrine nose—where those
eyes and those
ears start to catch
swollen hold
and go—waltzing
away in
resounding
displays of mock-
sympathy.
